My muscles tense, pulse throbbing in my neck. I push out of my seat, snagging the guy’s attention. “You mind stepping outside with me for a second, partner.”
He looks confused for a second then holds up his hands in surrender. “No, I don’t want any trouble. I just wanted to come by and introduce myself.” He shoves his hand in my direction, almost every one of his meaty fingers ringed with gold. “Mitch Deeds. I’m the CEO of Fetish Television.”
My fists clench. A fucking porn producer approaching my girl while we’re on a date? Nope. Not happening.
I step up into his space and try like hell to say what needs to be said without embarrassing Trix any more than I need to. “Listen, fuckface. You’re going to turn around right this motherfucking second and walk away, you hear me?”
“You misunderstand. I’ve seen her dance and she’s got talent. With those moves, she could make millions on screen.” He steps back and tries to look at Trix to address her, but I catch his chubby fucking chin in my hand.
“Don’t fucking look at her.”
“Mason, it’s okay,” Trix says, her voice shaky with emotion.
“If I could just leave my card—”
I grip the asshole by his suit jacket and drag him the few yards to the front of the restaurant. The hostess sees me coming and opens the tall glass door, probably to avoid me shattering it when I toss this fucker’s body through it. Two steps outside and I shove the prick with enough force that he lands on his ass.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” I growl and turn around, passing the slack-jawed hostess. “We’ll take our check.”
Once back at the table, I find Trix visibly shaken. Her gaze darts around the room, and her earlier confidence is non-existent. She looks terrified.
I move to her and pull her from her seat and into my arms. “I’m so sorry.”
Her body melts into my hold. “It’s not your fault, Mason.” The defeat in her voice makes my chest tight. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
I release her enough to get her eyes. “You could never embarrass me, Trix. Ever. Nothing makes me feel more proud than to show up with you on my arm. I don’t love what you do for work, but you deserve respect at all times and from all people, and what that fucker did tonight was unacceptable.”
A few women pass by us, whispering something about purple hair. Trix watches them pass before peering up at me with watery eyes. “I’d like to go home now.”
Fucking bitches. I glare at the women, silencing them immediately.
“Of course.” I grab her purse, hook her around the shoulders and lead her to the hostess, who has our bill.
“Would you like me to box up your leftovers, Mr. Mahoney?” she says in true kiss-ass form.
“No.” I shove cash at her and hold Trix close until the valet pulls up with my truck.
This night was supposed to be perfect for her, and instead of feeling like a damn queen on a throne, she was made to feel like she was wearing a big fat scarlet “A” on her chest.
That was not the plan.
I pull the truck from the restaurant, vowing to never go back there again. Trix is turned with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, staring out the window.
“Did you get enough to eat?” We’d only had a few bites of our food before that dickhead ruined it.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice sounds almost robotic.
She’s far from fine.
And I’ve seen the girl eat. No way two bites of lobster is going to fill her up. I pull onto the freeway on-ramp.
“This date stuff isn’t as fun as I imagined it would be.” Her voice is so quiet and directed toward the window, and I can barely figure out if what she said was for me or just her.
“It wasn’t ideal, but being with you is all I care about.”
She scoffs. “Welcome to the world of dating an exotic dancer.”
Is that all she thinks of herself? That her worth is tied to her chosen career? “I’m not dating an exotic dancer. I’m dating you, Beatriks.”
She sucks in a quick breath and turns to stare out the front window.
I exit the freeway and pull into a drive through.
She blinks up at the glowing red-and-yellow sign. “You’re taking me to In-N-Out Burger?” The spark of a smile twitches her lips.
“I know you’re hungry, and this is a date so . . . is that okay?”
“I love In-N-Out.”
“Good.” And I love doing things she loves. “And this time we’re eating at my place where no one can bother you.”
“Except you.” She lifts one eyebrow.
“That’s right. Except me.”
Trix
As nice as that restaurant was, and damn, it was incredible, it wasn’t anything compared to the prospect of a couch picnic with Mason. I can’t help feeling like shit about the way the night has gone. That lobster cost a fortune, and we just left it all there.
That jerk from the porn company ruined it all. It’s not that I haven’t been approached with similar requests in the past, but it’s only ever been done at the club. There’s nothing worse than finally feeling like you belong, only to have the harsh reminder that you don’t shoved right into your face.